


The Things You Do

by neevebrody



Category: Thoughtcrimes/Dawson's Creek (crossover)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Crossdressing, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-12
Updated: 2010-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-07 05:04:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neevebrody/pseuds/neevebrody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The way Brendan's looking back over his shoulder sets Vince's heart pounding. "Will you hook these in the back for me?" Brendan asks, edging the already-short skirt up his thighs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things You Do

Vince plucks another beer from the fridge, twists it open and takes a long pull in front of the open door. The shower had cut off a good twenty minutes ago. He kicks the door shut and scrubs his hand over his chin.

Brendan's been on this damned undercover assignment for a week now and all the signs point to him going out again tonight. The sharp odor of shaving cream hits him full on as Vince enters the bedroom. Another swallow of beer and he's leaning against the partially opened bathroom door, eyes fixed on Brendan, holding his breath as Brendan stretches the black, opaque stocking over his calf and up to his thigh, matching the one clinging to his other leg. Vince hisses out a long sigh and idly rearranges his crotch. Jesus.

He backs away and sits down on the end of their bed. Taking another pull, he reminds himself that Brendan hadn't found the wolf whistles and other remarks humorous that first night, nor had he seemed to know what to do with Vince's remark later that Brendan really did look hot. The wig next to the mirror catches Vincent's eye and nudges his cock a bit more full.

He makes an effort to school his reaction as Brendan walks from the bathroom to the stand in front of him. The perfume Freya lent Brendan swirls its magic around the room as sweat trickles down the back of Vince's neck. Taking a breath, he looks up just in time to see Brendan turn around, his leather-clad ass just an arm's length away.

The way Brendan's looking back over his shoulder sets Vince's heart pounding. "Will you hook these in the back for me?" Brendan asks, edging the already-short skirt up his thighs. He reaches for Vince's beer and sets it on the dresser. "Please."

Vince can't answer, his mouth's too dry. He can't even blink as the black garters dangle in front of his eyes; he just raises his hands to work the lace and satin covered catch. One and then the other, feeling the heat of Brendan's skin and radiating from his groin, and, god, it's all too much.

He leans in and licks the bare skin just above the hem of the stocking, running his hands over Brendan's now silky legs. Brendan turns around and Vince watches him smooth the supple leather down, barely covering the lacy ends of the garters and tops of the stockings. And in those few moments, Vince doesn't want Brendan going on this assignment. He looks up into a face twice shaved and smooth as a baby's behind, the scarlet blush of Brendan's lips and the smudge of black across each eyelid. Vincent's cock hardens even more as his gaze moves to the red lace camisole that barely covers Brendan's nipples.

"Do you have to go back out?" he asks, leaving off the part where he doesn't want Brendan to go. Then he's covered in heat as Brendan pushes him back on the bed, smiling. He turns around and takes the dark flowing wig off the form and slips it on, getting it just right.

It's like there's no air in the room as Brendan crawls up the bed to straddle Vince. He grips Brendan's thighs as Brendan grinds their hips together and bends down to leave crimson smudges across Vincent's neck and jaw before moving to his ear and whispering that no, he doesn't. That tonight, all of this is just for Vince.

It takes Vince a moment to realize what he's said and when Vince finds his voice again, he slips his fingers beneath the lace on the camisole and skims over Brendan's nipple. "No bra?" He grins. "You slut."

Brendan bends down to kiss him, but Vince stops him. "Just for me, huh?" Brendan nods. "Damn, I am one lucky son of a bitch," he says, reaching up for the wig.

Brendan grabs at it trying to keep it on his head. "Vince? What're you—"

"You don't need it." He tosses the dark synthetic tresses over the side and runs his hands through Brendan's hair, returning it to it's own adorable messiness. "I don't want a woman, Bren." He pulls Brendan down hard. The kiss is wet and hot until Brendan breaks for air. "I didn't say you looked hot because you looked like a woman…" he trails his little finger along Brendan's jaw tugging him closer, "…_you_ look hot like this. Damn, I'm so fucking hard right now it hurts."

Brendan rocks their hips together and kisses Vince again. "We need to get you naked," he says, a little breathless. He sits up and works the weathered brass snaps of Vincent's jeans. The he stands and tugs them off before slipping out of the see-through outer shirt he's wearing, letting it fall to join the jeans.

Vince backs up on the bed and props himself on the pillows. "So what are you wearing under all that?" he asks, idly stroking his cock and grinning at the way that always gets Brendan's attention. "Show me."

Brendan eases the leather skirt up over his thighs uncovering his own hard cock. He palms his balls and the sight is enough to take Vince's breath. "Jesus, Bren… c'mere."

Brendan crawls up the bed to his lover, settling down over Vince, as Vince slips the strap of the camisole over Brendan's shoulder exposing the nipple he takes in his mouth and listens to Brendan breathe hard above him. He shifts his hips to slide their cocks together and claims the other nipple while he squeezes the warm, soft leather into Brendan's ass.

He groans as Brendan raises himself and slips Vince's cock between his legs, snugged up against his ass. Vince falls back against the pillows as Brendan moves his hips up and down, stroking Vincent's cock between his cheeks and the hem of the skirt. Vince grips Brendan's thighs and begs him not to stop; the head of his cock catches under the hem of the skirt, and that sends white flashes through Vince's brain.

He raises his eyes to Brendan, who looks just as lost. And that pulls at Vince so. Brendan could never disappoint him, but now and then he does something like this, something just for Vince that takes them both to a different level, intensifies their need for one another and deepens their trust. Vince doesn't want Brendan dressed up all the time and he's pretty sure Brendan knows that, in fact, it may never happen again… and that's what makes this time so special.

Vince would love to fuck Brendan, have Brendan ride him, but as worked up as he is, he'd blow right away. Instead, he reaches for Brendan's cock. It's hard and Brendan groans as Vince strokes it, setting a rhythm to show he means business, that this isn't just a warm up.

To counter, Brendan spits in his palm and reaches back to ease the way a bit for Vince, who pushes hard into Brendan's hand, still nudging the leather. He isn't going to last, he knows that, so he stretches out and watches Brendan, watches his face change and takes in the silken strap hanging off his shoulder, the garters that are all crooked now, and he runs his hand over Brendan's thigh, still working his cock, until he hears the short, quick breaths that mean Bren's close.

"That's it, baby… just for me," And he feels Brendan's cock get harder at the same time he's digging his own heels into the mattress, hips bucking up into Brendan, filling his hand and the crack of his ass while Brendan's throwing his head back, coming for Vince, warm, thick jets on Vincent's stomach, chest and the pillow beside his head.

When they've each recovered enough to move, Vince rolls them. They've made a hell of a mess, but that can wait. He stretches protectively over Brendan, kissing him, letting him know how special he is, holding Brendan as he trembles a bit with his own passions. Vince doesn't want Brendan to fear that; he wants Brendan to embrace it, to know he's always safe.

They doze and Vince wakes to Brendan griping about being stuck to the bed and needing a shower. He lets Brendan push him off and laughs as one of the heels goes flying across the room. He turns over and watches Brendan walk to the bathroom, skirt hiked over his hips, pulling the camisole over his head as he goes, and thinking that a nice long soapy shower could lead right into round two.

He gets up and follows. "One lucky son of a bitch," he whispers to himself.


End file.
